Bullseye
by Jotasta
Summary: This is the story of two archers. These two archers, who usually are at odds, must team up to save the city. Through trials and adventures, they learn to put up with each other and form a bond that they would have never expected to happen. Longshot. Rated high T just in case.
1. Takes Two to Tango

**Note: I don't have Microsoft Word or any of those programs- I am stuck with a crummy WordPad. That means aaallllll the corrections and stuff are up to me because it has no spell check. Don't hesitate to point out any errors. Thank you for all the kind words and stuff! I will try my best to keep this updated, but with school coming it might not update until the weekends. (Even then I have sports events I have to run in. Running=work.) Again, thank you so much! Have fun reading!**

* * *

_A little more than three years ago_

"He is such a little bitch, I swear," Artemis vented into the phone, cradling it between her ear and her shoulder. Zatanna made a sound of agreement from the other end, distracted. The two of them were both getting ready for the same event- the wedding of Wally West. He was marrying some reporter named Linda Park, a woman he broke up with Artemis for. Despite being over him, she couldn't help but feel bitter towards the whole ordeal.

Three years had passed since Wally and Artemis' relationship had fizzled out, leaving the blonde archer without a home. Their house together was a place they shared through college, a home to both of them. When Wally had walked into their shared bedroom, face serious, Artemis knew something was up. Not one second after an hour later, Artemis was homeless, single, and fuming. It wasn't his fault- not in the slightest. He even said that she could stay. (Which was beyond stupid, in Artemis's opinion.) She kicked herself out in a whirlwind of death glares, harsh words, and stubbed toes.

A week later she was sharing an apartment with one of her best friends, Zatanna. Artemis's nights consisted of a constant flow of Ben & Jerry's and sitcoms, both generously provided by her friend. Eventually, she sucked it up and faced the world head on as she always did. Masking whatever hurt emotions she had were a specialty, having practiced the poker face since she was a kid. Zatanna was a major help for her, always being there when Artemis needed something to punch. (She wasn't the punch bag, of course. She just said a spell that made one out of couch cushions.)

And now here she was, three years later, trying to jam her foot into a too-small shoe for her ex-boyfriend's wedding. "I mean, of course he would invite me," she went on into the reciever, brows furrowed as she stood up. "We have been civil to each other and all, but..." she faltered, her ability to talk well leaving her. She swore through her teeth as the too-tight shoes practically cut off the circulation in her feet. She shakily hobbled over to the small hallway mirror, wincing with every step. The shoes added a good four inches to her already tall height, requiring her to hunch over to see her entire face in the hallway mirror. The makeup she applied was light, highlighting her cheekbones with some blush, making her eyes pop with some shimmery powder.  
Navy blue sequins made up her daring cocktail dress, an incredible find at a thrift shop a few blocks from her apartment. The dress was tight enough to show off the curves she was oh-so-proud of. Sighing, she clomped through the dimly lit hallway. Lonliness was a lingering feeling in her apartment, every noise echoing almost sadly. The sound of her heels were loud against the old wooden floor.

On the other end of the phone, Zatanna "mmhmm,"-ed in agreement, magically levatating her phone beside her ear. "Was he awkward about it or anything?" she asked, carefully applying mascara to her already full lashes. There was a pause from Artemis's end.  
"No," Artemis said carefully, opening the door of her car, "He was really rushed about it, though."  
"At least you know that he wants you to be there," Zatanna mused, blinking a few times and capping her tube of mascara. "S'not like he's avoiding you or anything,"  
"Yeah," Artemis said, starting the engine of her old truck. She could always use the zeta tube, but she had to arrive "normally," or something. "Listen, I gotta go. See you there,"

"Can't wait, babe," Zatanna warbled from the other end. Artemis pressed end, the phone going silent.

The wedding was gorgeous, she'll admit it. Artemis lingered around the ornately decorated drinks table, gingerly holding a glass in her hands. She didn't know half the people there and she wasn't sure how comfortable she was sauntering up to Wally after drinking a three and a half glasses of wine. She wasn't drunk, but she wasn't taking any risks either. A face or two popped out at her as familiar, chattering with the others as if they were best friends. She even thought she saw Dick and Zatanna, who were probably schmoozing the newlyweds. Dick was always good at schmoozing. She downed the last half of her fourth glass, reaching for another when a hand stopped her.  
"Getting drunk at my wedding? Wow, rude," Wally grinned down at her, still holding her wrist. She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away, cracking a smile. Despite the small amount of awkwardness, he was always easy to talk to. He had an open smile and kind eyes, not at all intimidating.

"You caught me," she teased, plastering a broad smile on her face, "Congratulations, by the way. Linda is beautiful." she said sincerely, looking over at the bride. Wally followed her gave and smiled warmly. Artemis could see in his eyes that he loved Linda, adored her. A small voice in the back of her mind asked when the last time a guy looked at her like that. An even smaller voice answered, reminding her that it had been years since she last had a serious boyfriend.  
"I know," he said, tearing his gaze off of Linda as if it pained him to look away. "So do you have any matrimonial plans coming up?" he asked, half joking.

Artemis let out a sharp bark of laughter, picking up another wine glass. Her patience was being tested, her temper flaring for some odd reason. "Hell no," she muttered into her glass, taking a swig. Wally looked concerned for a minute, eyebrows furrowed. Was he seriously worried about her? The nerve.

"Well, I gotta go talk to her parents..." He said, his face still etched with concern. "I'll be over by the cake if you need anything,"

Artemis nodded, going back to drinking her wine contentedly. She probably looked ridiculous over by the alcohol by herself, but she found herself caring less and less with every sip. She took to counting the faces that she recognized, making a mental note of their general area so that she could go talk to them. Dick, chocolate fountain. Zatanna, dance floor. Wally, Linda. Conner, table. Kaldur, beverages. Megan, dance floor. Roy, alcohol.  
Roy?  
"I hate weddings," he mused, grabbing a glass and standing by Artemis. "Too frilly,"

Artemis blinked, her head slightly fuzzy. "And.. I thought you hated me," she quipped, "Too mole-y."  
Mole-y. She snickered to herself, a high pitched giggle that did not match her outside appearance in the slightest. Roy just gave her an exhausted-looking stare that made her giggle some more.

"Why are you here," he asked pointedly, "If you are only going to get drunk?"

"Why are you here," she responded in the same condescending tone, "If you hate weddings?"

"Touche," he smirked, setting down his wine glass. Alcohol didn't appeal to him like it used to, and he didn't want to end up like the giggling idiot he was standing next to. The giggling idiot who, much to his surprise, had bent over shakily, using him as a support. She was taking off her five inch heels, which were giving her blisters everywhere.  
The wedding was dying down, and she was ready to go home. Shoes off, drunk, unable to drive, she couldn't go home even if she wanted to. Realizing this, she groaned out loud. "Shit," she sighed, rubbing her head with her hands. "Shit, shit, shit,"  
"What?" Roy said, watching her have a tiny mental breakdown right in front of him.

"I wanna get out of here but," she wailed, ignoring the glances from people surrounding them, "I am drunk."  
Roy nodded slowly, looking her over. "I came with Wally, I could take you home if you have a car," he said nonchalantly.  
"Okay, okay, thank you," Artemis slurred, putting down her wine glass and fishing around in her small purse. After a few seconds of searching, she finally extracted her keys with a bold, "Aha!" and dropped them in the palm of Roy's hand. "Let's get out of here, but you can go away after you take me home," she stated imperiously, tossing her hair over her shoulder and drunkenly sauntering out of the building. Roy followed with a chuckle, glancing at the groom. Wally had his arm looped around Linda's waist, looking like he was having the time of his life. He probably was.

"Mmmmygod," Artemis slurred, trying (and failing) for the tenth time to get her key in the keyhole of her apartment door. "This.. Stupid technology,"  
Roy let out a short, exasperated sigh, wrenching her keys out of her drunken grip and twisting them in the lock. The door popped open with a squeak. Artemis let out a little surprised, "Oh!" before taking an uneasy step inside. Despite himself, Roy held out his arms to steady her, hands going on her waist as she took a dangerous dip towards the ground.  
She froze at his touch, turning her head to look at him. He seemed just as surprised, removing his hands quickly. "I... I'll go now," he mumbled, taking a step back.  
"Oh no you don't," Artemis said, making a grab for his suit. She caught his pocket with her ring finger, tugging him inside. "You saved my ass back there, come sit down or something." In all honesty, she had no idea what she wanted him to do. The still-working part of her brain wanted to pay him back somehow, someway. He obliged, even though grudgingly. Roy sat down on one of her re-upholstered sofas, looking around the dimly lit room. It was barely furnished, but it was obvious that Artemis took pride in making it look nice.

"You haven't seen my apartment yet, have you?" She mused, putting her keys on a faux-wood counter. Roy shook his head, tearing his eyes from a framed photo of her and the team. It was obvious that she missed them.  
"Okay, you have to get the grand tour," she proposed, letting her hair down, the golden locks falling in long strands down her back. "Follow me, peasant."  
"I think you need to go to bed," Roy muttered, running a hand through his hair. She was being crazy. She just sang out a tune from what sounded like Veggie Tales, leaning against the door of her bathroom.  
He rolled his eyes and followed her through the small apartment, tolerating her only because she was drunk. She probably wouldn't remember anything by tomorrow morning, so he might as well act civil towards her. Artemis stopped at a closed door, stumbling so that she caught herself on the wall. "And with this, I bid thee goodnight," she slurred, turning the squeaky doorknob.  
"What, no goodnight kiss?" He joked sarcastically, smirking down at her. Her glassy, unfocused eyes met his, her face unreadable. In one quick movement, she was kissing him, hands sliding under his dress shirt. Caught completely by surprise, Roy almost pulled back, but stopped himself. He kind of liked it. He really liked it. He kissed her back, holding her close by the arch of her back, hand moving lower, lower.  
"The bed is right there," she murmered, breath hot on his lips. She pulled him in her room by the collar, kicking the door shut and grinning as it slammed noisily.  
"I know," he huffed, taking off his belt.

The warm sting of sunlight on her cheeks roused Artemis from a deep sleep, the sun bright and hot on her face. She made a small noise in the back of her throat, rolling over to avoid the square of light. She all but screamed when she rolled into another person. Muffling her cry with her hand, she stared wide eyed at Roy Harper, who was sleeping clothesless right next to her. In her bed. She looked down under the covers, eyes growing even wider when the realization hit.  
Oh my god. Me and roy tangoed after my ex boyfriend's wedding. Oh my god.  
"Roy," his name sounded weird coming out of her mouth. She helt the sheet over her chest, sitting up and poking him with a finger. "Roy,"

"Mrfgn," he groaned, burying his face in his pillow. His hair stuck up in every which way, something that would be funny if it were a different circumstance.

"For the love of pete," she hissed, dropping the sheet and grabbing her pillow, "Wake up!" She whacked him over the head with the pillow, grinning when he sat up in alarm.

"Christs sake." He grumbled, voice cracking and husky with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and held his face in his hands, back slouched. "Why the hell are you hitting me with a pillow,"

"Why are you in my bed?" she asked, voice shrill and alarmed. How much had she drunk? How much had HE drunk, considering his total dislike of her?

Roy looked at her, long and hard. She had picked the sheet back up, covering her bare chest with mild embarrassment. It was a few minutes before he looked away, flopping back down on the bed and covering his eyes with a well-toned arm. "We were both drunk," he said, "Really drunk."

In all honesty, though... He was not drunk. Not in the slightest bit.


	2. Anxiety

_Three Years Ago_

"So this thing," Artemis said, stirring her lukewarm ramen with her spoon. Her appetite long since vanishing, she pushed it away with her finger. "Is all just a... thing, right?"  
What she had meant to say was, So this thing doesn't mean anything, right? Roy snagged the mug of ramen, taking a bite. "Sure, why not," he mumbled, still half asleep. Seconds after he had woken up, Artemis had chucked various articles of clothing at him as if they were weapons. Angst and guilt- filled words flew out of her mouth for what seemed like ages as Roy was pulling on his boxers. What a way to wake up. Calling it an "emergency meeting," she dragged him by the ear to the scuffed kitchen table, where she bombarded him with questions about the night before.  
"What happened?"  
"Who started it?"  
"How drunk was I?"  
"How drunk were you?"  
"Why are you still not wearing a shirt? Get some clothes on, Speedy."

Answers obligingly spoken, he had shuffled his way to the bathroom with Artemis following, still all but wringing her hands with anxiety. Roy could honestly say that he had never seen her this worked up before, nor had he ever expected her to have a reaction like this. She seemed more the kind of person to wave a situation like this off, giving a sarcastic sneer and kicking Roy out. So the witch does have a heart, he thought with a small smirk, closing the bathroom door on Artemis. Pausing to listen for her reaction, he was surprised when he heard nothing. The door's hinges squeaked as he opened it slightly, peeking out with one tired blue eye. Artemis was walking away, looking completely guilty.  
In all honesty, the only reason she felt guilty was because she had done it right after her ex-boyfriend's wedding. She didn't want to admit it, but her intentions had been partially out of spite. She was drunk, yes, but she was also lonely. Seeing how happy everyone was, seeing how her old teammates were starting to get married, she felt so incredibly alone. Roy was there, nobody was with him, so she took the chance.  
But relationships were not at all what she wanted at the moment. She was working a full-time job, being a masked vigilante, (she had picked up the costume after she and Wally broke up) and a relationship would just get in the way with that. Roy had really opened up to her, acting civil towards her- something she never expected to happen. Maybe he wasn't looking for a relationship, either. Maybe he just did it because he wanted to, because the opportunity was in the air and he took it. And it wasn't like she was a virgin, so that sort of guilt wasn't weighing her down.

"You need a ride home, Roy?" She called through the bathroom door, remembering that he had taken her home with her car. How was he even planning on getting back home?

"I'm good," Roy said, opening the door. Face washed, he felt more awake after splashing himself with cold water. "I can walk or get a taxi,"

"Oookay," Artemis said, rolling her eyes. A small part of Roy was glad to see she was acting like her normal self.

"Yup," Roy said, checking his suit pockets for some cash. He had just enough to pay a taxi. "'Bye."

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Artemis responded, turning on her heel and ambling down the short hallway of her apartment. The sound of her front door closing and Roy leaving left the apartment feeling lonley again, the sudden mood drifting through the building like a fog. Artemis sighed, picking up her work clothes. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

Artemis typed the names of many patients into the office-standard computer, the words and meanings flying by her head. As a hospital receptionist, she got to work a normal job and lead a half normal life when she wasn't hunting down criminals by night. When the budget got tight, she opted to be a tutor at a local public school, teaching foreign children english or math. And when all else filed, she took a second job as a waitress. Jobs were a hassle, but the feeling of being just like every other person that walked through the doors of the hospital gave her a sense of comfort.

As far as hospitals went, this one was incredibly nice. It was recently built, the walls still giving off that "fresh paint" aroma that Artemis loved. The furniture was pristine from lack of use, much like the marble-like floor that stretched across the entire first floor of the towering hospital. Soft lights illuminated the place at night, better than the standard flourescent lights that caused many people frequent headaches.

In her back pocket her scratched up phone buzzed, making her jump in her seat. She answered the call, voice quiet so people didn't listen in.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Arty," Dick chimed from the other end.

"Oh, um. Hi. I'm at work. What's up?" she said, raising an eyebrow. She cradled the phone between her ear as she jotted down a note for the doctor.

"Sooo," He chimed, "How was Roy?" His voice was light, as if he was talking about the weather or what cereal to buy at the store.

Artemis felt her jaw go slack, her pen clattering on the floor as it dropped from her hand. "I- How did you- What-" she spluttered, leaning over to pick it up. The problem with being friends with a detective- he knew everything.

"Ok, lets see. You were drunk as hell, you two left at the same time, aaand he took a taxi home," He listed, his voice fading in and out- the connection in the hospital wasn't spectacular.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you knew he took a taxi," she scowled as she heard him snicker from the other end, "But I am at work right now, so I can't kill you at the moment. Talk to you later," she ended the call, angrily shutting her phone off. What a turd.

When her shift ended, she pushed away from her desk and headed towards her car as fast as she could. She had to change her sheets asap. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the empty parking garage, eerie even to her. She hated working late shifts, it cut into her vigilante time. She practically functioned on less than five hours of sleep a night, sleep being something she was willing to sacrafice for the city.

She swore as she thumbed through her keys, trying to find the right one in the dark. She wondered why she had so damn many. The sound of footsteps didn't reach her ears until they were right behind her, the sound too close to be friendly.

Acting on instinct, she whirled around to punch whoever was behind her, only to have her fist deflected. Surprised, she swung again, not used to being blocked so easily. The mysterious man grabbed her hand midswing, twisting her arm sharply. Artemis let out a cry of pain, her arm throbbing painfully. In one painful, quick motion, she was pulled to the ground, head smacking against the hard pavement. She groaned, taking in what was happening. The man loomed over her, sifting through her purse. Nothing but a few tampons and her cell phone were inside, and upon realizing this the man threw the bag down at the ground in disgust. His intentions were all a mustery until he began to unzip his pants.

Artemis wanted to scream, but she knew that wouldnt help. Her eyes darted down at his legs, which were not even two feet from her toe. She could kick him over, and then beat him senseless. Good plan.

His pants were halfway off and Artemis was just about to kick when the man froze, making a choking noise. A spatter of something warm hit Artemis's face. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, body hitting the ground with a muffled thud. A dark red circle grew around a single arrow protruding out of the rapists back, the blood forming a puddle underneath his lifeless body.  
_ Oh my god. _  
_ Oh my god. _

Artemis shakily looked up at Red Arrow, who slowly lowered his bow. His face was grim, eyebrows set in a scowl.  
He just killed a man... For her.


	3. Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas

**Note: If you have noticed, I split up the longshot story into two. If you are confused I am sorry, but the two seemed totally irrelevant as I kept writing. So this is a companion to the "Worst Waffles Ever," and is set three years before.**

"What did you do?" Artemis cried, backing up against the tire of her car. The stranger's blood looked scarlet against her now pale skin, like spatters of red on snow. "Oh my god, Roy- He is dead! You killed him!"

His stormy features grew blank as he slowly walked to her, hand out. It was like how one would approach a frightened animal, stance submissive and nonthreatening. Artemis recoiled, snagging her purse from the ground as she stood up shakily.

"I had it under control, Red Arrow," she said darkly, opening her car door and throwing her purse in. She turned to face Red Arrow with a scowl on her face, the blood still on her cheek. "I can handle myself."

"He would have killed you," he spat, nudging the body with his foot. He made no move to retrieve the arrow protruding from the man's back. "You're welcome,"

"You," Artemis almost shrieked, throwing her hands in the air, "Killed him!" Her voice dropped to a spine-chilling hiss as she stepped over the man, jabbing a finger in Roy's muscled chest. "I don't need your help, I don't need your protection, and I definitely don't need you to follow me around like I am some helpless little girl who can't do anything for herself."

Roy just stared, looking her over. "Do you have your suit with you?" his voice was steely, a monotone.

"In my car," she said, narrowing her eyes. What was his deal?

"Get changed." He said, smirking, "You're going on patrol with me,"

"No I am not!" She huffed, getting into her car and pulling out a large duffel bag that was concealed under her seat. "I am never going on patrol with you. Ever." Glancing in the rearview mirror, she finally spotted the blood spatter on her cheek. She wiped it off with the back of her sleeve in disgust, taking her sweater off. That needed to be washed. Pronto.

Roy dislodged the arrow from the mans back when she was turned away, wiping it off with a rag he kept in one of his pockets. Green Arrow was going to have a fit when he found out about this. He would probably not be as mad if he knew the situation, though. He snuck a glance up at Artemis's truck, an old dingy one that probably should have driven its last miles on the road ages ago. Inside the truck, she had taken her shirt off and was struggling to put the top portion of her costume on inside the cramped vehicle.

Her back was muscled and defined, her spine visible underneath her olive toned skin. Scars and bruises from nighttime patrols decorated her back in an array of battle wounds. He had the same kinds of scars. Knives, bullets, arrows... All these injuries having an underlying story to them. He liked his scars, they were a part of who he was.

He turned away from the car, letting the poor girl have her privacy. He hadn't followed her like she had accused- he was simply in the right place at the right time. (Or in her case, the wrong place at the wrong time.) He had been after a gang of cocaine dealers when he spotted a man take a suspicious veer into a parking garage, ducking and hiding in the shadows. Upon further investigation, Roy noticed that he was following a young woman, face unrecognizable at the time.

Changing his route, he padded down the echoing garage, staying out of sight. The man was armed- a knife in his right pocket of his cargo pants. When he realized that that man had taken Artemis down, he was blinded with rage so powerful he could barely see straight. When the man began to take off his pants, the rage blinded him. He barely realized what he had done until he saw the blood seeping out of his fatal wound. Sure, he felt guilty, but he had a good reason behind what he did.

"I'm not going on patrol with you," she snapped, slamming the car door behind her. Hair up in a tight ponytail, costume on, bow and arrows ready, she stormed over to him. "Ever,"

Through one of the gaps in between the floor and the ceilings of parking garages, she shot an arrow connected to a length of durable rope, a temporary zipline. The arrow hit the roof of a nearby library with a THUNK, the line going taught. Casting one last look at Red Arrow, she zipped down the line, using her bow as a handle. He followed suit, rolling to a stop at the top of the library.

The library had a flat roof, smooth poured concrete that was excellent for running and scaling. Perched on the edge of the building, Artemis peered over the edge to take in the city. She looked like an owl from the way she was sitting- feet under her, knees up, hands in between feet.

Roy walked past her, planning to track down the gang he had been following before. A hand grabbed his bow just as he was about to climb down the fire escape. "Where do you think you're going?" Artemis demanded, frustrated.

"You said you weren't going on patrol with me," he shrugged, climbing down the first rung of the ladder. "So I am going to actually go do something, unlike you,"

Artemis glared, following him down the ladder despite herself. They crept through the shadows in silence, the sound of their muffled footsteps and quieted breaths the only communication between them. Beautiful buildings turned into broken down warehouses as they left the nicer part of the city.

"This gang isn't run by any of our guys," Roy whispered from in front of her. Peeking around the wall, he deemed it safe to keep going and stealthed on, arrow ready to fire. Artemis followed behind, mimicking his actions. "Its just a drug gang,"

"I bet you'll like that," she muttered, squinting to read a street sign. She had to have a vague idea of where she was if she ever wanted to get back home.

"That was a while ago, Artemis," he growled. In the eerie silence of the night his voice seemed resonant, amplified. The sudden increase in frustration and volume made Artemis jump a little. She tried to play it off as a hiccup, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of startling her. Smirking, he approached an exceptionally run-down building, the hideout of the gang.

The warehouse was an old candy cane factory, the chipping paint a sickly red. Despite all of the years that had past, it retained the faint scent of peppermint and Christmas. "Merry Christmas," Artemis muttered, choosing not to point out the fact that she and Red Arrow were Christmas-colored as well.

Maybe when she charged into the fight she could let out a battle cry of, "Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!" or something clever.

Roy crouched at the broken down doorway, listening. Muffled voices could be heard inside the building, words undefinable. He had to get closer- from his investigations, the gang was trying to smuggle more cocaine inside the city, more cocaine than the city had ever seen. He had to stop it. Personal experiences with drugs left him feeling obliged to keep others from starting. Gesturing to Artemis, he scaled the stout building, nimbly dropping through a hole in the roof.

The words became more decipherable as Red Arrow drew nearer to the gang, the smell of Christmas blending with the stench of weed and other drugs. Artemis was close enough behind him that he could feel her breath on his neck, a feeling that made him prickle. He fought the urge to swat her away in annoyance.

"So can we shoot?" she whispered quietly. He shook his head, pointing to the various chemicals surrounding the "meeting area" of the drug dealers. Her eyes widened in understanding, puckering her lips in annoyance. Well that complicated things.

"We can shoot at their knees. Or something," she insisted, knowing she could aim well enough. He just shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Rolling her eyes, she joined him in listening in to the conversation happening below.

Red Arrow and Artemis squatted over a large hole in the floor, the table where the dealers sat directly below them. Bits and pieces of their conversation wafted up to the archers ears, leaving the two to piece together what the fragments meant.

"...The shipment is coming in a week..."

"...More than... drugs... Has it under control."

"He wont get caught?..."

"...No. Star City is gonna have... new rules."

"...Nevio is... be good.."

"...Did you see that..?"

"Up there!"

Taking half a second to register that they were talking about her, her eyes widened in horror as all seven men took guns from their pockets. She flew backwards, launching herself away from the bullets that were aimed right for her and Red Arrow. The loud sound of gunshots stung her ears, making them ring painfully.

"Let's go!" Red Arrow ordered, firing an arrow down to the lower level. Artemis heard a thump, and she knew he hit his target. Artemis quickly fired a smoke arrow, one that released a heavy puff of haze that gave them about ten seconds to either take their enemy down or get their tailbones out of there. Blindly firing a few arrows, thuds and thunks were heard from inside the haze. Artemis prayed that she hadn't killed them.

"You can't hide, archers," a graveling voice said from the smoke. Artemis ans Red Arrow froze, exchanging glances. At the doorway, they stopped, both turned slightly to see who had spoken. A man was standing erectly in the center of the chaos, chiseled face grim. He wore an expensive pinstriped suit, one that neither Roy or Artemis could ever dream of being able to afford. "We can't simply let you go."

The man pulled out a large gun from his coat pocket, aiming it for the two figures in the doorway. "Watch out!" Red Arrow cried, sprinting for her and tackling her, arms wrapping around her waist. She hit the ground solidly, head throbbing. Her first thought was, "Why is he attacking me?" but her train of thought was interrupted by a flash of heat and an explosion that rattled her to the bone.

Red Arrow lifted himself off of her, head whipping to the now collapsed doorway. The man had trapped them inside. He looked back out at the man who was pulling something else out of his pocket, something small and square.

"Get up!" He thundered, grabbing the shaky green archer and running. The suited man flicked the lighter, tossing it onto the barrels of gasoline. The world went scarlet as the gasoline ignited, setting the entire building ablaze. The world was fire. Everything burned.

Red Arrow staggered back, a protective arm in front of Artemis. They needed a game plan. Fire surrounded them, oxygen was running out, and the smoke was starting to make him lightheaded.

Artemis was coughing weakly, clutching her chest. Feebly reaching behind her, her fingers wrapped around an explosive arrow. If this wouldn't work, they were gonna die anyways. She fired at the wall nearest to them, the already crumbling concrete blowing apart easily. The hole created by the explosion was big enough for more than five people to fit though, perfect for two archers. The hole, however, let in fresh air that fed the roaring flames. The heat was starting to make her vision sparkle, unnatural dots dancing through her blurry vision.

Turning her attention to Red Arrow, she was shocked to see him keeled over, wheezing. Looking back at the exit she had created, she was torn. She couldn't leave him, never. "Get up," she ordered, taking his hand and yanking him up. He cooperated, but she knew it took every ounce of his power and will. Putting a supportive arm around him, she all but dragged him to safety, collapsing to the ground after getting a safe distance from the warehouse. Every intake of breath stung, her eyes wouldn't work right, and her skin was covered in scorch marks and burns. With a weak cough, she collapsed into an exhausted heap on top of Red Arrow, their panting breaths drowned out by the roaring flames.

* * *

Artemis aroused to the feeling of fresh, clean oxygen being filtered into her lungs. Taking a deep breath, she opened her heavy eyes. She was back in her apartment, an oxygen mask sloppily put over her face. Soft morning light filtered into her bedroom through the light colored curtains, alerting her that she had probably slept in through her morning shift at the hospital. Groaning, she pulled the mask off her face. The air of the apartment seemed stuffy and dusty compared to the fresh oxygen she was just breathing.

Her skin burned, and upon looking at her midriff, she was covered in a thin layer of small burns. Ugh, great. She would have a hard time convincing her coworkers that she had had an accident in the kitchen. Wincing with every step, she reached her cell phone and dialed her office, calling in sick. She hadn't taken a day off in months, so she didn't feel too terrible about taking off.

Pausing to glance at the conveniently appearing oxygen machine, she dialed again, this time a different number. Voicemail, of course. She grit her teeth and dialed again, relieved when Roy finally picked up after the fifth ring.

"Hullo?" His voice was raspy, parched.

"How did I get back home, Roy?" Artemis asked, leaning against her drawers. She immediately regretted it, a nasty burn on her back stinging painfully in protest. Shuffling in the background of the other end was followed by a noisy clearing of the throat.

"I got Green Arrow," He said gruffly.

"Oh. Thanks, I guess," Artemis said, looking down at her burnt costume. It looked almost beyond repair, a piece of her pants looking about ready to fall off. "Are you... Are you okay?" Normally, she wouldn't ask this. But Roy was in pretty rough shape last time she saw him before collapsing on top of him.

"Fine." Roy said. She could practically hear him shrug. "Gotta go. Bye."

Looking at her phone in disgust as the other line went silent, she tossed it onto her bed. What a turd.


	4. Tacky Pencils and Metal Boxes

Artemis knocked on the door of the apartment, staring ahead in contempt. She had changed her clothes from her singed costume into a comfy pair of sweats and a cami. It was only Roy, so she didn't have to worry about impressing anyone.

He answered the door, looking sttartled. "What are you doing here, Artemis?" he questioned, bloccking the doorway stubbornly. He was wearing no shirt and a pair of plaid boxers. Artemis tried not to stare, looking right into his eyes.

"Who else is with you?" she demanded, trying to peek around his bulky, muscled figure. He blocked her view, glaring down at her. "I heard a woman in the background of your phone... thing,"

Not that she cared one way or another, she was just concerned for his health. That was all. She didn't care about who he was sleeping with or what he was doing. Not a bit. "Baby," a nasally voice said from behind him. Roy's face soured, turning to face the bottle-blonde sauntering up behind him, wrapping her scrawny arms around his waist. She was wearing lacy panties and a push up bra. Tacky, Artemis sniffed, returning her eyes to Roy's face.

"You know," Artemis snapped, "With your injuries and all, I'd think that it would kind of hurt to do anything more than walk." It had been hell getting to his house, her car seats so much more uncomfortable than what she thought they were. She had winced and groaned with every rut and bump in the road, the scratches and burns stinging painfully.

"Is that seriously all you came here for?" Roy said, beginning to close the door. Artemis threw a hand out, stopping it. She gave a great shove, pushing the door open. The bottle-blonde let out a little squeak and put a fluttery hand over her obnoxiously large chest.

"My my, she sure is strong. Ah, Roy, who is this?" She said, her voice drawling with a faint southern accent.

"I'm his friend," Artemis barked, pushing her way inside his apartment. The expression plastered on Roy's face was a look of fake kindred; Artemis could see the fire in his eyes. She returned the fire, plopping herself down on his sofa. Ow. Her backside smarted with the sting of injury.

"Carly," he said quietly to the woman, "I need to talk to her. Alone." He tried to avoid Artemis's eyes when Carly ran a finger over his bare chest, smiling demurely.

"Okay, sugar," she purred, "I'll be goin' home now," Waggling her fingers good-naturedly to Artemis, she picked up a coat slung over a chair and headed towards the bedroom to get her things.

"Why?" Artemis said monotonously, face stony. Roy just rolled his eyes, frowning down at her. She had no right butting into his personal life, no matter how unorthodox it was. It didn't matter that he barely knew a thing about Carly, it was his life and his decisions.

"I could ask you the same thing," Roy retorted, taking a seat next to her. Carly being gone, he finally showed the winces and grimaces that he had been hiding all night. Carly, being little more than a prostitute, barely questioned his widespread injuries. He was okay with that.

"Its about last night. The mission," she stated, kicking her feet up and resting them on his coffee table, pushing aside magazines and beer bottles that cluttered the surface. She had worn an old pair of converse so worn that they were barely in one piece. Knowing that she was bugging him just be being there, she was going to make the most out of it.

"Oh." He wrinkled his nose a little, looking at a can of beer that she had almost knocked over. "What about it?"

"Were you even listening to what they said?" She demanded, sitting up and crossing her arms. "They were talking about this guy 'Nevio,' and how he might make 'new rules,' for Star!" Once she had completely woken up from being passed out, fragments of the conversation came back to her, the words slowly piecing together to form a horrifying newsflash: They had some new blood in Star City. Not just any blood, but a sinister, plotting villain who could possibly endanger the lives of thousands.

"Yeah, I was," Roy grumbled, leaning back on the sofa. He looked exhausted. Serves him right, Artemis thought smugly, whore. "We can't do anything about it until we get more information."

"We have all the information we need!" She said, voice rising in exasperation. He was impossible. "We could just go back to the site and see if there is anything left. Or something," Honestly, she didn't know what else to do. But a tugging in her gut said that she needed to do this, needed to prevent Nevio before he got too big.

Leaning against the couch, head back, he groggily opened one eye to look at her. She was set on doing this, and there was probably no way to get out of it. Not like he had a choice- Nevio sounded like bad news, he would have dealt with it eventually. It dawned on him that in some form, some way, she was hinting at them being a team. Never in the time that he had known her, even when he slept with her, did he think she would want to team up with him.

"And did you even take time to clean your burns or anything?" She continued, eyeing a particularly bad one on his shoulder. He shook his head tiredly, yawning. "Wow, you are stupid. Where is your medicine cabinet?" she sighed, standing up. He pointed the kitchen, vaguely telling her where it was.

She found her way to the kitchen, curling her lip at the total bachelor-ness of the place. It was messy, but not disgusting. She had a habit of keeping her place as tidy as possible, the act of cleaning and organizing being soothing in ways. She opened cabinets at random, mentally "tut"-ing the disorder of their contents. Finally opening the cabinet that held medicine, she sifted through various painkillers, gauzes, and pills until she found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. It hadn't even been opened yet, the seal still on the cap.

"You're dumb," she said again, handing the bottle to him. He didn't move an inch, lolling his head back and pretending to snore. She made a noise of indignation, sitting down on the couch. "You're seriously making me do this? Seriously?" He didn't respond as she dabbed the cuts with a peroxide-soaked cotton ball, his skin tingling a little as she pulled away.

"Never again, Harper," she huffed, setting the bottle on the table. He chuckled, laughing at her expense. Half a beat later, she was on her feet, crossing the room in long strides. She had wasted enough time here, and she had work to do.

* * *

The old candy cane factory was no longer a rickety building, but now a pile of ash. Rubble and debris scattered the surrounding area, other buildings nearby scorched and covered in black ashes. Artemis picked her way over broken glass, the fragments crunching under her converse. Nothing popped out at her as unusual, but she had a gut feeling that something was here, anything. Nudging a chunk of concrete aside with the toe of her shoe, she peered underneath the blackened matreial. A leather boot was half buried in the ground, the rubber sole melted so that only the metal buckle and leather remained. Her stomach lurched at the realization that when the men around the table had been inside the warehouse when it was set ablaze. They had killed themselves for this man, "Nevio," sacrificing their lives for his cause.

Feeling more than uneasy, she returned the concrete back over the half-incinerated boot. If she couldn't find any more clues, she would go back to the boot. Silently she prayed that she ran across something else.

Her shoe caught against something protruding from the ground, her balance wavering before catching herself. A small metal box was sticking out of a pile of ashes, the metallic paint around it glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Grinning, she unearthed the box and tucked it under her arm.

It was a smaller box, about the length of a binder. It looked like the boxes that held money at her elementary school's book fairs, where the mothers who volunteered to help put the bills. Artemis had never been able to afford books, but her friends would sometimes lend her a dollar or so, which she used to buy a novelty toy or pencil. She never wanted to use them, in fear of the pencils breaking or running out of lead. It wasn't much, but she still had some of those pencils in her drawer back at home. They accumulated until high school, when the book fairs became something she had outgrown. Besides, Gotham Academy was much too expensive. Her lovely friend Dick Grayson (who was revealed to be her teammate. Who would have thought?) would sometimes buy her things, but she had a harder time accepting gifts as she got older.

Glancing at the box on the passenger seat, she couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that was swelling in her chest. Something big was about to happen, and it was going to happen soon.


	5. The Many Parts to a Mission

**Note: This was simply too fun to write. Sorry for all of the delays, I have a ton of school and sports things planned all week, every week. I will try and keep writing, though! Thank you all so much for all the feedback!**

A sharp knock on her door tore her from daydreaming, causing her to almost drop the metal box that she was holding in her hands. Her apartment was dark, the only lights illuminated being the hallway light and her kitchen light. Wondering who the hell would be at her door at this late, she padded across the kitchen, opening the door. Roy stood at her doorway, hugging his goosebump-covered arms to his chest. Wisps of mist danced out of his mouth, his breath heating the cold air. Not wearing a jacket of any sort, he looked out of place in the cold night by wearing a t-shirt and a pair of nice jeans. A ratty backpack was slung over one arm, the fabric worn and faded.

"You just gonna stand there?" he grumbled, walking inside her house the moment she indicated he could go inside. Rubbing his hands together quickly to make them warm again, he tried heating up as fast as he could. He dropped the backpack off beside her front door, the contents making a loud thunk. "So ready to go investigate?"

"We don't need to," she said proudly, picking up the box and showing it to him. "I am pretty good at doing things myself,"

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, taking the box from her hands. "It's locked,"

"Really? I hadn't figured that out by now." She said sarcastically, taking it back. "Maybe I can try breaking the lock."

"Do whatever," Roy shrugged, meandering into her kitchen, "You have any food?"

"You're as bad as Wally," Artemis muttered, fishing around in Roy's backpack and extracting his bow. Picking out an explosive arrow, she set the box in the center of the doorframe between the kitchen and the entryway. Pulling back the string. she brought the bow close to her body and aimed. When she held a bow in her hands- even if it wasn't hers- she felt connected to it, every movement she made affect by and affecting her weapon. It became a part of her, another limb. Releasing the arrow, the point hit the lock in the exact middle, a bullseye. The metal lock flew off on impact, the smaller explosive only blackening the floor around the box. That was gonna be hard to explain to her landlord.

A small poof of smoke rose from the small explosion, revealing a stunned-looking roy standing in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. A chicken nugget was being strangled in his right hand, his fists having balled up at the sound of the explosion.

"I.. was just getting some chicken," he mumbled, for the first time in his life looking completely scared shitless, "And... that blew up."

Box temporarily forgotten, Artemis let out a sharp bark of laughter that quickly transformed into a fit of giggles that made her weak in the knees. Grabbing the wall for support, she doubled over, laughing. Across the room, she heard a sound of protest from Roy. He hated being laughed at, but she knew he was probably smiling.

Roy, curious, pried the now unlocked box open, peering into the object at the contents. A photograph, a gun, and a business card. That was it. Dammit.

"Nothing is in here," he huffed, sitting back on his heels. The gun was empty, the photograph was of some scantily clad woman and a group of men, and the business card was to a fireworks place. Artemis sobered up, taking a seat next to the redheaded archer. He was looking intently at the photograph, at the men beside the woman.

"Quit staring, perv," she snapped, trying to take it from his hands. He pulled it away, leaving her to grab at empty air. The men both had tattoos on the skin between their thumb and ring finger; inked on their skin was a violet eye with a star shaped iris. That was definitely not normal.

"I'm looking at the tats," he said, handing her the photo. Studying it, her face changed into an expression of surprise. The pinstripe dude had a tattoo like that, she remembered, eyes narrowing.

"Do you know this place?" She asked, looking at the gun uneasily. From how the woman was dressed, it looked like a strip club.

"Um, no. It doesn't look familiar," He mused, flipping it over. An address was scrawled in sloppy letters on the back, handwriting rushed and hardly legible.

"We? To a strip club? Roy..." A little voice in the back of her mind told her that this was only going to lead to something terrible, but she pushed it out of the way. "God, I can't believe I am asking this.. But will it be undercover?"

He tried not to meet her eyes, nodding and staring intently at the photo. Artemis let out a small noise of exasperation, running a hand through her long blonde hair. "Great," she muttered, standing up and crossing her arms. "So... How would we get there?"

"How I get everywhere," He said, closing the box, "Zeta,"

* * *

Walking up to the club, Roy was horrified to see that it was not, in fact, a female strip club, but a male one. Artemis walked confidently inside, wearing barely anything with a pair of booty shorts and a midriff-revealing top. Artemis surpressed gales of laughter as she watched the color drain from his face as he realized what he would have to do.

"Come on, Roy the boy toy," she cackled, ushering him inside, "Don't want to miss your show,"

The multicolored lights sent beams of brillliant hues and shades across the empty stage in front, the smooth flooring reflecting the lights onto the audience's seats. It was like dinner and a show, with tables directly under the stage. Women crowded in groups at tables, gossiping and chatting giddily. The smell of cologne and other scents stung her nose, the overwhelming amount of stimuli being thrown at her quite overwhelming.

"So here's the plan," she said between spasms of laughter, "While giving a chick a private lap dance, search for tats. Look on the other dancers, too. I'll investigate the rest."

"What rest?" He almost wailed, voice heavy with exasperation, "The only people here are the dancers and the women,"

"We'll see," she said smugly, pushing him towards the door to backstage. "Take er off,"

Roy threw one last glare at her before disappearing into the dressing room, taking his shirt off as he walked inside.

Artemis had found a seat at a table, sitting next to three other women who obviously had never been to a male strip club before. Their faces were red as tomatoes before the lights even dimmed, squealing before the music even started.

Artemis leaned back in her chair, sipping at a bottle of water. No drinking while on a mission, that was obvious ruling. Eyes sweeping across the room, she spotted nothing out of the ordinary wrist-wise. She would have to swap tables later to see the other half of the room.

Stomach flip-flopping with nerves, she took another big gulp ofher water, looking around the room anxiously. What if some random dude tried to straddle her or something? So not in the mood- this was something she would usually go to with her girlfriends, not Roy Harper. The butterflies in her stomach turned into snakes as the lights dimmed. What had she gotten them into?

Artemis couldn't help but cover her eyes when the guys came out, all wearing cop outfits. She let out a small groan of embarrassment when she saw Roy among the pack, apparently accepted randomly into the dance crew. Compared to him, the other dancers looked positively scrawny, their abs and biceps paling in comparison to his rippling muscles.

Not wanting to know how in the world he knew what to do, she focused her eyes on the other dancers as they ripped their shirts off dramatically, throwing their jackets into the crowd. One jacket hit her, falling right into her lap. Looking up, she stared right into the eyes of a smirking- and completely shirtless- Roy. She raised her eyebrows, unable to look away from the redhead as he did a synchronized dance along with the others. Wow, he was hot. He was really hot.

"You're drooling," one of the girls who had joined their table at the last minute sneered, chuckling at Artemis's expression. She stared blankly at the woman, then pointedly down to her wrist. Nothing. She slowly turned her head to look back at the dancers, who had disappeared from the stage. "Where did-?"

Interrupted mid sentence, a weight on her thighs almost made her stand up and flee. But no, it was just Roy, playing the part. It was just Roy, not wearing a shirt. It was just Roy, the guy who drove her nuts but also had a very good body.

Sitting on her lap and facing her, he ignored the various shrieks of, "Me next!" as he leaned down and whispered into her ear, lips grazing the side of her face on accident.

"There is a man backstage," he hissed, his breath hot on her face, "Has the same tattoo as the men in the photos."

"Ok," she said, voice coming out breathier than she had intended. Mentally punching herself, she watched him make his way back to the stage, black pants standing out against all the bare legs of the dancers.

Oh mother of- Roy realized with more horror than he had ever felt in his life that he had to take his pants off. They had given him a man-thong for a reason, he realized with disgust, he just never thought he would have to use it. Sending one apologetic glance Artemis's way, he tore off the police uniform pants, a chorus of shrieks rattling the ground behind him. The black fabric fell to the ground beside him, and he slowly turned around to face the music- to face the crowd of gleefully screaming girls in front of him.

* * *

"You owe me, Crock," he growled under his breath, tugging on a pair of jeans. After he had escaped the squealing crowd of girls, he had practically dragged Artemis to a dark corner to hide him while he changed. Compared to his bulky, muscular figure, her frame seemed petite and dainty. She barely blocked him, but it was good enough. After getting over the sheer mortification of the whole ordeal, he and Artemis snuck into the backstage room, searching for the man with the tattoo.

"Yo, bro, no girls allowed," a stark naked man said, throwing his hands out in exasperation. Artemis averted her eyes to Roy's back, trying her best not to blush. Not that she had never seen a man undressed before. She usually knew the guy, though, before she saw what was going on below the belt.

"It is something important," Roy stated, taking the archer's arm and guiding her through the hordes of partially-dressed men. One leered at Artemis in a way that seemed more than disrespectful, a kind of demeaning stare that itched Roy in the wrong way. Artemis didn't seem to be offended, however. She threw a glare right back at the man that was so fierce that he had to look away quickly, instead looking at a crack on the cheap flooring. Atta girl.

A nudge at his arm wrenched him from thoughts of murder to the leering man. Artemis was staring pointedly at the hand of a male who was getting dressed, a tattoo standing out against his pale skin. Roy looked at her and nodded, striding over him with a bounce in his step. Using the back doorway, Artemis snuck out of the crowded room.

Breathing a sigh of relief when she inhaled the cold, fresh air of the outside, she quickly changed into the costume that she and Roy had hidden inside of a dumpster. Sure, it reeked, but it was the only place that could conceal a bag filled to the brim with lethal weapons and heroic masks.

Meanwhile, Roy had cornered the possible criminal, chatting up a storm. He had to stall him just long enough until Artemis burst into the room, firing arrows like the badass she was. Polite on the exterior, the man had a twisted sneer in his features that couldn't be hidden with a genuine smile. Hate seemed to radiate from the very pores of this man. He talked with a heavy Gotham accent, drawing out his vowls and accentuating his consonants. The scent of alcohol emenated from his greasy skin, a smell that made even Roy wrinkle his nose.

Smiling and nodding, Roy grinned as he heard a crash, and a few men yelp. Artemis strode into the changing room, smirking confidently. Now that she was behind a mask, she could do anything. She could be whatever she wanted to be- nobody recognized her. She pushed aside a man with her bow, aiming an arrow at the tattoed man.

"We need to talk," she growled menacingly, the arrow just barely grazing the mans temple. The man sneered, expression smug. Curling her lip, she inched the arrow closer to the man's head, the metal tip puncturing the filthy skin. Dark blood trickled down his face, which was twisted into a humorless smile.

Allowing the archer to lead him out the back, he submissively slouched against the wall and stared into her eyes. His jaw was set. He wasn't saying anything.

"What are your affiliations with Nevio?" She hissed through bared teeth, a technique used sorely for intimidation. The man, however, looked unimpressed.

"I ain't tellin yous nothing." He spat. "Nevio s' gon' be the new king of the town,"

"So you are working for him?" She demanded, loweding her bow slightly. She had backed him into a wall, how aimed for his face. She wouldn't, of course, shoot him, but the act was sorely for scaring the answer out of the henchman.

He smirked, flashing his tattoo. "You don' scare me, lady. Now if ya 'scuse me, I gotta beer ta drink."

So uncooperative. This wouldn't do. Using her forearm, she rammed him against the wall, clutching the fabric of his jacket. It was an expensive fabric, imported from a foreign maker, from the feel of it. He let out a choking nose as his head hit the wall, eyes darting down to where her hand was gripping the fabric.

"You like this coat, do you?" She said, voice smooth. In one swift motion, she grabbed an arrow, slicing open the pocket of his jacket. Two guns, a set of keys, and a cell phone dropped out, clattering to the ground. Finally, fear flashed in his eyes. Glancing down at the dropped items, Artemis suspected that among the objects, something was important to the case.

She couldnt explain it; something about this mission nagged at her, made her feel like she had to solve it. The man, now looking up at her with glassy eyes, refused to speak.

"Fine, be that way," she snapped at the silent figure, "But you are going to talk,"

Shooting a rope arrow towards the sky, she made a makeshift grappling hook that connected to the top of the building. She looped the rope around the man's torso, giving a little wave as something from the roof pulled the rope, causing the man to fly upwards.

Roy will get some answers out of him, Artemis thought, crouching to the ground beside the objects that had fallen out of the man's pocket. After a moment of thought, she chose to inspect the cell phone first. It was old, a flip phone. She vaguely remembered her mom having the same kind when she was about ten. Carefully opening it, the bright glow of the screen catching her by surprise. Blinking furiously, she opened the menu and scanned the contents of his contacts list. It was mostly women, but about every three women there was the name of a man. "Zazu," "Yukor," "Gangrene," were among the most ordnary of the names.

"Weirdos," she mumbled to herself, looking at the call history. She needed an in depth account of the phones details, a way to find out where it has been and what it has been through. She made a mental note to contact Nightwing. Pocketing the phone, she moved on to looking at the keys.

There were about five of them on the ring, each one a different size and shape. A loud thump from the roof made her flinch, heart taking off and racing. That could be either good or really, really bad, she thought, shooting another grappling hook-like arrow up and scaling the wall. The bricks of the stout building made for good footholds, her lightweight shoes gripping the rough surface easily and allowing her to race up the side of the building like she was that comic book superhero, Spiderman.

Flipping over the edge, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Roy had knocked the guy out and was looming over the unconscious figure, cracking his knuckles. He glanced up at her, his bare eyes surprising her. She didn't remember him not wearing sunglasses to conceal his eyes. Upon further inspection, she found them broken on the ground a few feet away from Roy.

"I got all the information we need," he said smoothly, striding over to Artemis. His eyes were distracting, more so than they had ever been to her. She nodded mutely, hugging her arms to her chest. Now that the rush of being involved in a case was over, she realized how cold it actually was.

The season was nearing Christmas, the nights growing colder and colder. Christmas for her had never been anything special up until a few years ago. Wally had made it special, buying her little gifts and trinkets with what money they had. College, being as expensive as it was, left little to splurge with, so they made do with what they had. Not that Artemis was complaining- she hated extravant gifts. She was happy with getting a new flash drive for school, an iTuned giftcard, some cookies.

"I'm cold," she said finally, letting out a puff of misted breath. Roy nodded, glancing back to the unconscious man.

"We have a few minutes until he wakes up," he pointed out, going ahead and climbing down the building using her rope. She followed the redhead, quiet. Her mind, still on Christmas, wondered if this year would be as lonely as the past few years.

The thought- the hope- of having a companion made her shake her head. It was ridiculous, Roy obviously wasn't interested. She must have made a sound because Roy was looking at her, eyebrow raised.

"What are you looking at?" She snapped, face slightly hot.

"Nothing," he replied, turning his head away, looking to the busy streets.


End file.
